Hadrian's Wall (11 page)

The girls were nowhere in the house when I
returned.
Good
. But then I
realized that Mr. Jones had returned from work. A few minutes
later, I heard the Mrs. Jones’ pickup coming up the driveway. What
a relief! I could make my speech in a single breath.

When I entered the house, Mr. Jones’ eyes
immediately spied my suitcase, but he said nothing, although he did
look a little surprised.

When Mrs. Jones appeared, I gave her my best smile
and said, “Mrs. Jones...I got a job! Isn’t that wonderful? I’m
supposed to start on Monday.”

It had been easy, fast, and lightweight. I hope I
seemed sincere, I hoped so because I
hated
lying.

“
Congratulations, honey!” She didn’t
hide his relief, briefly pressing my arms.

“
At last...” Mr. Jones muttered. We
both pretended not to hear him.

“
I...I found a very cheap motel. It’s
close to the job. I’ve made arrangements to stay there. Don’t get
me wrong...” I tried to clarify things the right and diplomatic
way. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful or belittle your
hospitality, but it’s time to have my own place. I gave a her
forced smile, praying that my lie had sounded
convincing.

“
So I think we should celebrate
your success,” she said while rummaging around inside the
refrigerator, deciding what to prepare for dinner.

I felt bad...but I couldn’t turn back
now.

Mr. Jones turned on the TV in the living room and
was watching the news, while Mrs. Jones began to prepare the meal.
In fact, almost everything was ready. We had cooked several meals
in advance the week before and frozen them, so the only thing that
remained to be done was to prepare the salad. Well, it would cost
me nothing, since it would be my farewell.

Dinner was a silent event, but not embarrassing.
The girls’ absence made things easier. Mrs. Jones commented that
they’d gone to visit a school friend and would probably sleep over
at her house. Mr. Jones talked very little, except when his wife
asked him how he’d spent his work day and he rattled off a litany
of complaints against his supervisor.

After dinner, I helped with the dishes. Then came
the first obstacle to a clean getaway.

“
Wait a minute, I’ll give you a ride,”
said Mrs. Jones.

I couldn’t escape. I gave her the address of a
place that I’d once heard, but I really didn’t know if it was still
there. Along the way I prayed that she wouldn’t try to accompany me
inside the motel.

Luckily, Mrs. Jones was in a hurry. She left me on
the corner that I’d mentioned and said she’d visit me as soon as an
opportunity arose.
That is never!
I
thought wryly, es
pecially if it depends on her psychopathic daughters or her
grumpy husband
.

She waved goodbye and took off with the pickup
sputtering. I had to laugh, she still hadn’t mastered the gears and
speeds. I turned to wave, but the vehicle was already out of
sight.

I sighed, thinking about the meaning of expression
“bitter victory.” Yes, I’d managed to get out unscathed, but I was
on my own. I picked up my suitcase and walked in the other
direction.

I felt so lonely! I thought about my father and
everything I’d lost because of his illness, not in material terms,
but the family having to live day-by-day.
Support...Security...Comfort. I wished he was by my side to comfort
me! I blinked furiously, trying to chase away the tears and force
my mind to focus on my immediate problem.
What do I do now?
Did I have enough money to buy a bus
ticket? I found myself trudging down the sidewalk, carrying my
heavy suitcase, without a definite plan.

I decided to wait until the next day and then try to
find a job in another place, perhaps a city where there would be
more possibilities...maybe somewhere on the coast.

Tomorrow is Saturday. You
won
’t find a
job on a Saturday. You’ll have to wait until
Monday
, but by then I
would have spent all my money on food and lodging, without any
guarantee that my situation would be resolved on Monday. And if it
wasn’t resolved, my money would be gone! I wouldn’t have enough to
eat, let alone buy a bus ticket.

Oh, yes!
I’d have to take a chance on another city and I’d
have to go now.
It was now or never
.

I asked a passerby where the bus stop was located.
The boy pointed me in the right direction and explained the
distance that I had to walk to get there.

I felt my stomach clench. I felt nauseated at the
thought that tomorrow I could be anywhere, far from everything and
everyone I knew. The unknown was very scary and the worst part was
that I couldn’t make plans because I had no idea what was to come.
Maybe things would get better, maybe worse. I tried to be
optimistic, telling myself that nothing could be worse than it
already was. But I knew that mine was not the only case or the
worst case. Once I found an article on the Internet that talked
about the destiny of Americans orphans who were not adopted—no
support, no education, no friends.
Man, I’m in trouble!

I continued walking to the gas station where the
buses usually stopped along that road— at least according to the
information the boy gave me. I entered the convenience store,
looking for a bus schedule. The attendant had been watching me with
a disinterested expression, before asking, “Can I help you?”

I asked about the buses, but he knew almost
nothing—just that they pass by there. A girl who was sitting on a
long bench stood up and approached us.

“
Excuse me, I’m waiting for
the bus to Gorham. It should arrive soon...” But she didn’t tell me
about the rest of the itinerary and arriving in a strange city,
near midnight, could be quite dangerous—even more so for a girl
alone, like me. I thought it would be safer for me stay in Berlin
and travel the next morning. I asked her if she knew where I could
find a cheap hotel and I thanked her for the information before I
left the store under speculative gazes. I bet that they thought I
was too young to be traveling alone. Were they wondering if I was a
teenager running away from home...?
What fun
—
especially if they’d called the local social workers
office,
I thought with a
twinge of irony. My suspicion was confirmed when the hotel desk
clerk insisted on seeing my identity.

I registered and asked for a bedroom on the ground
floor so that I wouldn’t have to go up and down the stairs,
struggling with my heavy suitcase. The look on the guy’s face told
me that it was obvious he didn’t intend to carry it for me. I paid
for the room and picked up the key that he placed on the
counter.

The room was simple, dark due to the painting of
walls stained because of leakage. On the floor, the carpet didn’t
look like it had seen a vacuum cleaner for a long, long time. The
bathroom had loose tiles on the shower floor and the overhead
wiring was exposed. But for me it seemed like the presidential
suite compared to the little bedroom that I’d occupied above the
Joneses’ garage

I literally collapsed on the bed. The mattress was
sinking in some parts, but was comfortable and large. I sighed. I
was exhausted. I was unfit for anything except sleeping. The
blisters on my feet had burst because I was feeling pain become
more acutely. My hands were painful too, calloused from carrying
the suitcase. I was afraid to take off my ballet flats and prove my
suspicions, but I had to because if I wanted to walk the next day,
I wouldn’t get far with those shoes. I’d only worn them for the job
interview because they were more elegant than my shabby
sneakers.

The blisters on my feet scared me because they’d
formed wounds. Like an acrobatic drunk, I awkwardly rested my foot
on the edge of the sink, cleansed the wounds and dried them with a
towel. Then I looked in my suitcase for socks and my only
comfortable shoes. I let out a sigh of relief.
Sneakers: the greatest human
invention!

Again, I thought about my dear father, but I tried
to react to depression. Now I desperately needed to count the money
I had left. Thinking correctly, dealing with money just let me
down.

Only you cannot postpone the problem, right? You
will not get to sleep until you assess the size of the
disaster!

After telling and retelling, including picking up
lost coins in the back of the pockets, I was overcome by a terrible
anxiety. Something told me that the money would not be enough to
buy a ticket anywhere.

3

D I R I G O

I was so tired that I fell asleep fully
clothed. When I awoke, the sky outside of the window was
brightening and the cold of the morning was disappearing with the
darkness. I felt lethargic. My body ached all over but I finally
forced myself to get out of bed and get moving. Determined to take
a hot bath, I stripped off my clothes and submerged my sore body
into the tub to thoroughly enjoy a luxury that had been denied me
for far too long.

* * *

When I left the bathroom, the outside
temperature was already climbing. I got dressed and brushed my
hair, deciding to make a ponytail. Absentmindedly, I heard the
noise from the street, indicating that the town was beginning to
wake up. Sighing, I concluded that I could not postpone what was to
come; in fact, I had to act quickly so that I would not miss a
minute of the day.

I left my room, pulling my suitcase behind
me. I stopped in the lobby, expecting to see the young male desk
clerk who was on duty when I checked in, but instead I saw a very
old lady sitting there calmly reading the newspaper. She looked up
at me and smiled.

“Good morning!” I greeted her, placing the
key on the worn counter.

“Good morning!” She compared the number on
the key tag with my record, found that I’d already paid for the
room, and threw the key into the bin. She smiled as if to say,
“It’s okay” and sat down again.

Oookay!
I responded with a shy smile and headed for the
exit.

* * *

I walked slowly, savoring
the hint of breeze that caressed my face, providing some respite
from the heat. In the daylight, the streets seemed a little
different. I forced myself to remember the way back to the gas
station. Once there, I came across another attendant. He knew more
about the bus route—fares and schedules—than his colleague last
night. Given the information he provided, I quickly realized that
my money would be insufficient for anything other than a small
breakfast. I bought a carton of orange juice and a cookie, and then
sat down on the bench outside. Hopeless situations require
serenity.
A new beautiful teaching of
Buddha, no doubt. Focus on the immediate problem,
Melissa!

I needed to get a ride, which could prove to
be more difficult than finding a job because at that hour there was
hardly any traffic on the road.

Suddenly, a truck made a turn into a parking
place. It was a mid-size vehicle and displayed a prominent logo on
the side. The driver stopped the engine, opened the door, and
leaped out. I kept chewing on my cookie, all the while
absentmindedly watching him. It was a bearded young man, wearing a
sweat-stained shirt. He glanced around and then his eyes came to
rest on me.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” I said, though my mouth was
full.

He looked at my suitcase, but said nothing
as he walked around the truck to the gas pump. He inserted the
nozzle into the gas tank, then set the lever for “hands free”
fueling. He hesitated for a moment and then approached me.

“Waiting for the bus? It’ll be here soon. I
know because I passed it a few miles back.”

“No
, I want to ride the bus, but I don’t have enough money for a
ticket. I don’t know what to do...”

He arched his eyebrows, apparently surprised
at my confession.

“Don’t worry...I can give you a ride.”
Suddenly his expression became cautious. “You’re not under age,
right?”

I laughed. “No, I’m not...and I can prove
it.”

He raised his hand, cutting me off. “It’s
not necessary...where are you going?”

He seemed friendly. For just a moment I
thought about the risk of accepting a ride from a total stranger,
but I had no other option.

“Tell me where you’re going,” I said.

He shifted his weight and smiled, somewhat
surprised by the fact I didn’t have a final destination.

“Well, I’ll be going through Gorham, Bethel,
Norway...I have to make a delivery in Poland Spring too, so I’ll
pass by Gray, Portland, and the surrounding area. I’ll take the
Route 95 exit that will take me straight to Augusta. Then...”

“Works for me...thanks!” I grabbed my
suitcase, turned it around with some difficulty, and then
approached him.

The young man laughed incredulously. “What
city?”

“The farthest one from here,” I said,
sounding as bitter as I felt.

“So, we’re off to Maine,” he muttered and
picked up my suitcase.

* * *

The trip was enjoyable. Bob was good
company. He was a simple fellow, doing well in life, and very
devoted to his family. I think I drew the long straw to catch a
ride with him.

Gazing out the windows of the truck from
time to time, I saw mountains interspersed with extensive pine
forests and small towns. The landscape was lush and green. I wished
I’d had a camera, but instead I tried to observe every scene we
passed so that I could later replay them in my drawings.